


Wordlessly

by mommymuffin



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Brief mentions of other characters - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Slash, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:37:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mommymuffin/pseuds/mommymuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vegeta realizes he appreciates Bulma and her presence in his life more than he originally thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wordlessly

**Author's Note:**

> Just an old work I found and decided to post. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Also, I know NOTHING about mechanics or machines, so forgive me if anything sounds iffy or something. I just...I know nothing. Really.

“Vegeta!”

The prince’s ears twitched at the sound of the woman calling his name. _What did she want?_

“Vegeta! I have something heavy for you to lift!”

Vegeta sighed. _Was that all?_ Fine, then. He could do that for her.

Not that he was doing this for _her_. Not at all. Make no mistake that this was for him in every way. Somewhere along the way he and the earth woman had wordlessly worked out an agreement between them: Vegeta would do some occasional heavy lifting and in return Bulma would leave him alone for at least five solid hours a day (except in case of emergency...like runaway training bots).

“Vegetaaaaa!”

“Quit yelling, Woman. I’m right here.”

“Oh!” Bulma turned around to see the familiar scowl. “Geez, took you long enough. It’s this right here.” She gestured to a large box behind her.

Vegeta moved to pick up the box without comment. He hefted the item over his shoulder and followed Bulma to her lab.

He set the box down and Bulma immediately moved in to rip it open.

Vegeta stepped back and raised an eyebrow at her eager behavior.

“What’s in there?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“What’s in here you ask?” she said, grinning, partially from her excitement and partially because Vegeta had just inadvertently started a conversation with her. “Why, only the most impressive piece of technology in existence to date!” Bulma continued cutting open the sides of the box.

Vegeta crossed his arms and waited.

Bulma finished her task and the sides of the box came tumbling down. The woman was quick to rip away what packaging had been cushioning it. What was revealed was...Vegeta had no idea.

“And that is what exactly?” Vegeta asked with an air of arrogance. Interesting how he manages to sound arrogant even when posing a question.

“It’s a core,” Bulma said, eyes sparkling.

Vegeta was boring holes into the back of her head. That meant nothing to him.

Bulma whipped around to face him, completely unfazed by the look on his face. “It’s the newest type of core, developed by the top scientists in the country. It’s been in development for years, my dad even worked on it for a little bit, and now they’ve finally created a prototype. It’s not the final model, not by far, and the only reason I’ve managed to get my hands on one is because, well, because I’m me. And now that I have it, I’m going to take it and make it even better. I’ve looked at the blue prints and with my modifications I can make it super awesome.”

Vegeta stared for a moment. That _still_ meant nothing to him. “What does it _do_?” he asked tersely.

“Oh...” Bulma blinked, realizing she had gone off into technology land again, a land that few and far between understood. “It’s...like a heart for a machine.”

“An engine,” Vegeta said.

“No, no, more than an engine,” Bulma said. “It’s like a life force.”

“Machines are not alive,” Vegeta said flatly.

“Ah, but they’re awfully close,” Bulma said, going to her desk and pulling out papers covered in scribbles. “When I’m through with it, this core will be powerful enough to self-sustain a machine. As long as it’s working, everything else will. Kind of like a human heart.”

“Machines don’t need hearts. What in the world could you possibly want something like that for?” Vegeta scoffed.

Turning back to the machine, screwdriver in hand, she said simply, “For the gravity room.”

For a moment it felt as if he had been submerged in ice-cold water. It was a moment of dawning, chilling realization.

Vegeta stared at Bulma’s back. It suddenly all fit together, the last puzzle piece fell into place and he could see the picture now.

Bulma had been spending an abnormal amount of time around the gravity room, tinkering with it and writing things down for about a month now. He had found her passed out over her work in a failed attempt to pull an all-nighter more than once, that’s not to mention the nights she successfully did pull an all-nighter. Package after package had been coming in for weeks now.

Had it all been for him?

No, what was he thinking? That was just idiotic. The woman wouldn’t do all that for him. She bitched every time he asked her to do anything. Well, he never _asked_...but still, she wasn’t going to go out of her way for him or anything.

No, she was doing all of this for herself. Because she was a mechanical genius and these machines fascinated her. Yes, it was entirely selfish. Just like Vegeta lending a helping hand, so he could get some peace and quiet in return.

Bulma began speaking again. “Once I get this installed, the gravity room should be virtually self-sustaining. It should be able to prevent most malfunctions. I’ll only have to check-up on it once, maybe twice, a month. And of course if you do something particularly destructive, but you usually keep that to only a couple of times a month, so that shouldn’t be too often.”

It _was_ for him.

Vegeta wished he could go back to the ice-cold water feeling, because it was much more preferable to the sudden empty feeling he had right now. Vegeta knew he was a cold, heartless, selfish bastard, but he had never felt _bad_ about it before.

Bulma was going to make it so that she didn’t have to interfere with his training as much. She was helping him, accommodating him, giving him the peace and quiet he wanted so badly, the solitude he desired.

But, was solitude really what he desired?

Because if solitude was going to include this aching, empty feeling, then...

Then, he would rather be with _her_.

Vegeta stared wordlessly at Bulma’s back.

“Oh, I’ll probably get engrossed working on this, so when you get hungry just tell me, because I’m sure I’ll forget otherwise. Okay, Vegeta?”

There was no answer.

“Vegeta?”

Bulma turned around and he was gone.

She sighed. “And I’m talking to no one. What’s new?” She turned back to her new toy and was immediately filled with glee again.

That night Vegeta never came and asked, well, not asked, where his dinner was. Bulma hardly noticed, she was so involved in the machine. She did notice however when morning rolled around again and her own stomach began grumbling loudly. And there was still no sign of the Saiyan. Odd, but Bulma figured he probably left on some training expedition or another again. Bulma didn’t worry too much when Vegeta didn’t show up for a little while. That’s just how he was. But, she did always make sure to check if he was passed out in the gravity room or not.

Bulma dragged herself out of her lab. She had stayed up all night again. She needed a quick meal and then at least a couple of hours of sleep before diving back into the core. Everything was going swimmingly and the young genius was eager to finish and see the result, so she hastened to the kitchen.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw what was lying on the kitchen table.

 A beautiful bouquet of red roses.

“What...?” Bulma began, incredibly confused.

Her parents were out of town, so it couldn’t have been either of them who left it. She knew they weren’t from Yamcha, because she had threatened him with bodily harm when they had broken up, and the last time he had tried to “make up” with her she had made good on her promise. He’d live. The security system is on at night so no one could have gotten onto the premises without the alarm going off. Which left the only other person in the compound...

“Vegeta?” Bulma whispered. “No way...”

Why in the world would the Saiyan prince have left her flowers?

Wait, they were for her, right?

She picked up the bouquet and found a card with her name on it. They were for her then. But, were they from Vegeta?

Bulma didn’t really see how they could be. But then again...

Well, there was one way to find out.

Bulma searched until she found the Saiyan propped up against the side of the gravity room, dozing lightly.

“Vegeta?”

“What?” he asked without opening his eyes.

“Um...I was just wondering...are these flowers from you?” She hugged the bouquet to her chest.

“Who else would they be from?”

Bulma’s eyes widened. _They were from him!_

“Oh, um...well...they’re beautiful. Thank you...”

Vegeta still hadn’t opened his eyes.

Bulma stared at him for a moment, hoping for a comment. There was none forthcoming.

“Can I ask...why?” she said finally.

Vegeta cracked an eye open then and looked at her for a moment. Then, much to Bulma’s surprise, he lowered his gaze.

“For the heart.”

“What?” Bulma asked, her own heart skipping a beat.

“The machine heart thing,” Vegeta said irritated.

“Oh,” Bulma said, slightly disappointed for some reason. “The core.”

“Yeah, that.”

Bulma furrowed her brow. That still wasn’t making sense—Oh.

They were a thank you.

Bulma smiled then, bright and beautiful. “Thank you, Vegeta. They’re really beautiful.”

Vegeta watched her, thinking she and the roses looked good together.

“Where’s breakfast?” he asked suddenly, growling.

 “I haven’t made it yet,” Bulma replied. “But, I can make it right now. Come on.”

Vegeta followed her back into the house without a word.

Bulma smiled to herself the whole way. How very like Vegeta to want to thank her, but to have to do it in such a roundabout way, because of his pride. She knew he was far too full of pride to ever be able to say something like “thank you” out loud. But, that was part of what she liked about Vegeta: his ability to say everything without saying anything at all—wordlessly. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
